


Days Go By (Shou ga nai)

by hayannoran



Category: OMORI (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Panic Attacks, Post-Bad Ending, Time Travel, it's not all angst i promise, may contain implied suntan if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 14:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30090408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayannoran/pseuds/hayannoran
Summary: If you were given a second chance in life to fix all the mistakes you made in exchange for your old one, would you take it?...It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter. He never asked for this—It just happened.Against all laws of reality, his spirit was pulled from his grave and unceremoniously shoved into his twelve-year-old self.How inconvenient that the moment the universe chose to push him into was the worst moment of his life....In which Sunny time travels.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 135





	Days Go By (Shou ga nai)

**Author's Note:**

> Kay so this is my first fanfiction, and also the first time I'm using this website not for reading, so do let me know if I made any mistakes. I'll be honest I'm not sure exactly what direction this will go in, but depending on how I feel this will either get slight fantasy aspects such as literal depictions of dream world lore, or it'll be a basic time-travel fic. If the GB discord finds this please pretend it don't exist aha

It started so abruptly, in that moment when for the first time in years, Mari’s frustration broke through her mental dams and lashed out. It was on the day when Sunny threw away everything they've worked so hard for. When he declared that his efforts— _ their _ efforts were nothing.

She didn't see it at first; the way his composure crumbled. How within a millisecond his eyes became older, more tired, and so weary. It wasn't until he abruptly collapsed and broke down like never before did she realize something happened. In hindsight, there wasn't an opportunity to know just how much changed right then; she wasn't in her right mind, and Sunny wasn't in his either. (She still wouldn't forgive herself.)

But as time progressed and they moved on from their fight by the stairs, Mari finally understood something that she never wanted to admit.

This Sunny isn’t her Sunny.

  
  
  
  


...

  
  
  
  


The recital never happened, after everything that had been done. After all, there was no violin to play with. When their parents woke up the next day, they were in for an unpleasant surprise as the scraps of wood left by the foot of the stairs were left forgotten from the night before. Her mom lectured Sunny harshly for throwing and breaking it and her dad scolded him thoroughly. 

"You need to understand the value of money," they told the boy. "You need to be more grateful for the friends, family, and living situation you have."

(They never did notice what was wrong with him.)

He was grounded for a month afterward, and he didn't pick up a violin again for a long while. Mari cared—but not nearly as much as she should have. What she did care about, more than anything, was how Sunny changed.

It'd be hard for anyone else to tell—especially when their own two parents saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sunny was always quiet, introverted, and antisocial because that was just how he was. Sunny's aloof traits were the main thing anyone would notice about him. They were the base for his entire exterior personality. Despite all this, he still had an air of childishness that all kids his age had, and a sense of humor that only those he trusted got to see. He may not have been the most expressive person out there, but you could read him through the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he's happy, or the way his brow furrowed ever so slightly when angry or how dull his eyes were when sad. And most importantly, as rare as it was, he still smiled. 

He had a nice smile.

This Sunny did nothing of the sort. Perpetually around the clock, his face sported a carefully maintained neutral expression, so stock still that one could mistake it for a porcelain mask. There was no relaxed, unbothered air to her younger brother; only a tense sort of silence, one layered on so thick that it was oppressive. The only time that any sort of feeling would ever make itself apparent on Sunny's face was in the moments when he looks at Mari. 

How he looks like he saw a ghost.

How his frame would freeze up, and how his eyes widen to an almost comical degree, before once again reverting to that same cold expression that Mari grew to hate so much.

  
  
  
  
  


...

  
  
  
  
  


"Did… Did I do something wrong?" His sister hoarsely whispered.

An uncomfortable silence filled their room. Sunny could hear his ears ringing, and the whirring of the ceiling fan that was recently installed into their home. 

The pre-teen stared expectantly at the older of the two, waiting for her to elaborate.

"...Sunny…" She shifted on her bed to look at him.

"I… I'm sorry about how I acted that day. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I-" Mari's voice cracked as she turned her head down in shame. "Are- are you scared of me? How can I help make things back to how they were? Is this about what I did?"

He didn’t know how to react. Honestly, he didn't know what she was talking about. 

(He never knew anything anymore.) 

His mind reeled back his confusion, and once again he was neutral. Visions of a white room once again took up the forefront of his brain.

"Sunny, please! Please, just... Just tell me what's going on! I need to know what's wrong so I can fix it, because you-" She was crying. 

That wasn't right. 

That wasn't supposed to happen. 

Sunny shouldn't have let that happen. After all, Mari should be happy. Mari deserves it.

"You aren't acting like yourself. I just- I want you to be happy, Sunny. The recital isn't as important as you." Mari sniffled. "I… I want my brother back."

He got up from his spot on his bed to move to hers, and wrapped his arms around her body in a loose embrace, to which the older reciprocated, crying softly into his shoulder. They stayed there, in that silent room, with not a word spoken between them as they held onto each other.

...This wasn't going to fix it. Under normal circumstances, maybe things could be different. Maybe he could have bared his heart and his emotions for Mari to see. Maybe, just maybe, he could have told her all of his insecurities and troubles, and all of the things he’s wanted to tell her all this time. Maybe… He could have apologized. He desperately wanted to.

But he wasn't her Sunny.

She didn't need to know what he'd done.

  
  
  
  
  


...

  
  
  
  
  


If you were given a second chance in life to fix all the mistakes you made in exchange for your old one, would you take it? 

...It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter. He never asked for this—It just happened.

Against all laws of reality, his spirit was pulled from his grave and unceremoniously shoved into his twelve-year-old self.

How inconvenient that the moment the universe chose to push him into was the worst moment of his life. (His past life. He needs to start making that distinction.)

(After all, he isn’t their Sunny.)

And he saw her, a ghost amongst the living. A relic of the past, dead and gone.

But she wasn’t dead. She was alive and very much moving, and dangerously close to the same set of stairs that caused him so much anguish in that life he threw away.

Sunny broke.


End file.
